


Five Times They Saved Ryan and One Time He Saved Them

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Category: Castle
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, BAMF!Ryan, Bromance, Claustrophobia, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Mysteries, Panic Attack, Ryan is amazing, Team Bonding, This got away from me, Violence, background caskett, murders, probable inaccuracies, season four ish, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-04 16:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10282943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: Kevin Ryan is the smallest and more quiet out of the 12th precinct's famous quartet. He's underestimated a lot.Here we have five times Kevin Ryan actually needed help and once where he kicked some serious butt.





	1. The Alley

**Author's Note:**

> This got away from me. I hope you guys enjoy!

**1.**

In the family that the three police officers, and one writer, had formed, Beckett was the mother and Castle was the father. That designation was especially perceptive from Ryan and Esposito's point of view. They were the only ones who really saw that it was a unanimous decision considering the way that Castle and Beckett made eyes at each other when they thought no one was looking. Ryan thought they should just end the tension, man up, and acknowledge their feelings making the entire mood of the precinct all the better for it. Esposito thought so too but didn't really want to admit it, his only comment being, "All of that marriage stuff with Jenny is getting to your head bro."

But, in the end, the only part that really matters is that Beckett was the mom and Castle was the dad. Esposito automatically took the roll of older brother, teasing and roughhousing Ryan with absolutely no shame. Ryan was the shortest and mild mannered and highly entertaining to tease. It was extremely easy to see him as the younger brother. He took that position quite happily, even if sometimes it seemed to make his team forget that he was a capable and efficient police officer.

Of course, not all of that was true, usually he was a magnet for trouble. Not quite as bad was Castle, but certainly notable. He was slim and young, he certainly wasn't green but he definitely looked it. He still dressed like he was going to church when he went to the station, and as he was the shortest of the three he seemed to be the easiest target. That did work to his advantage sometimes. Other times not so much.

In a damp New York alleyway, the quartet finally cornered the suspect Jonathan Davies against a wall. There was only two ways he could retreat- the front and the back. However, Esposito and Beckett stood resolutely on one side, Castle and Ryan on the other. Davies hadn't expected the two extra officers to step out from the other end of the alley, two long shadows stretching across the dark moonlit road. Both ways out were blocked. Unfortunately for the homicide detectives, he'd still kept the short lead pipe he'd picked up from the construction site.

Beckett held up her badge, "NYPD, Davies! You've got nowhere to run, just give yourself up and maybe we can work something out."

For a second, she thought that maybe, just this once, the criminal would turn themselves over instead of running. Davies stood stock still, assessing the four officers, then instinct kicked in and he bolted for the end of the long alley with Ryan and Castle.

Luckily, Esposito and Ryan had the good sense to have drawn their guns before they entered the forbidding brick alley. Unluckily, the suspect plunged towards the edgy Ryan and the notably unarmed Castle.

For a few moments it was chaos, Beckett and Esposito charged, shouting at Davies to stop. Castle give a girlish shriek, and Ryan, seeing that using his hand gun would only risk his and Castle's life, charged into the fray. Davies swung, and Ryan did a very stupid and brave thing. He caught the lead pipe, holding on to the end before it could hit the rapidly retreating writer.

The impact jarred Ryan and before he could react, Davies hit the detective's stomach with his free hand three times in quick succession. Ryan doubled over and let go of the pipe. Davies would've bolted out of the alley and gotten away had Ryan not recovered quickly, scrabbling up and tackling him. The pipe went skittering. Ryan managed to get a solid blow in before Davies overpowered him. A wandering hand scratched desperately against the pavement before it caught hold of the lead pipe and Davies slammed it into Ryan, knocking the wind completely out of the unfortunate Irish police officer.

He went down like a stone. Davies raised the pipe to strike the downed wheezing man, but he never got the chance. Castle yelled, "Hey!" And suddenly Davies received a furious uppercut from the bestselling author. Castle fell back clutching his hand. Davies turned but he wasn't able to retaliate, Esposito having finally made it to the other end of the seemingly endless alleyway.

The criminal froze over the downed detective as he felt the muzzle between his shoulder blades, "I _dare_ you to hit him again. _I dare you._ Do you want to know what a handgun of this caliber does this close to you? I'd _sever_ your spinal chord and blow the front out of your sternum. _Drop the pipe._ "

Beckett stood off to the side, prepared to help and, if needed, stop Esposito from doing anything too rash.

It was quiet for a long moment.

The silence was shattered when Davies dropped the pipe and it hit the pavement with a sharp startling clatter. Esposito snarled, "Now get on the ground and put your hands on your head."

Beckett cuffed the suspect and Castle rubbed his hand with worry as Esposito knelt by his partner, voice surprisingly soft compared to the firm steel of a few minutes ago, "Ryan, bro, you doing okay?"

A few seconds later Ryan was stumbling out of the alley, an arm thrown over Esposito's shoulder as he limped to the car. No ribs had been broken thankfully, but he was going to be badly bruised for a few weeks, his only other injury was his hand which was only mildly sprained.

Ryan sat stiffly in the front of the car beside his best friend. Esposito glared at the car in front of them with Castle, Beckett, and Davies. He was really looking forward to questioning the suspect.

Ryan shifted in pain and asked curiously, voice weary, "Hey, Espo? Is Castle doin' alright?"

"He's doing fine, bro."

The Hispanic detective was given a muffled sleepy, "M'kay."

Javier huffed, "Look man, next time you're coming with me."

Another hummed, "M'kay."

"I'm serious, bro. Castle is Beckett's partner. You're my partner. You needed backup and I was just a second too late. Next time, you're coming with me."

There was no answer and at the red light Esposito looked worriedly over. Ryan had fallen asleep against the window. He couldn't help a small fond smile. All four of them had been up for a few days straight to solve the case, and even with bruised ribs Ryan had given in to exhaustion.

Eh. Esposito could let him sleep awhile. They'd all still be there in the morning.


	2. Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting early because... Happy St. Patrick's Day!

**2.**

Castle strode confidently into the precinct, charismatic smile on his lips as he searched the building for a familiar female detective. He didn't get very far before another officer snatched both mugs right out of his hands. Castle held up a derogatory finger and frowned, "That coffee isn't for you."

Esposito raised an eyebrow at Castle, "Bro, does it look like I care?"

Castle opened his mouth, closed it, and put down the finger he'd raised. Esposito rolled his eyes and sat down as he took a sip, "Yeah, I thought so."

Ryan walked in and saw the other coffee cup on their adjoined desks, "Is that for me?"

Castle spoke, arms crossed, "No." Esposito flipped through his files, "Yes."

Ryan eyed them, long fingers fidgeting with the hem of his vest, clearly skeptical before he decided that it was better (and safer) not to get involved, "I'll go make my own."

Castle watched the man go, forehead creasing as he saw Ryan yawn widely. He turned back to Esposito, "Did you two stay overnight or something?"

The detective took a look sip of caffeine before answering, "Nope, I didn't. Went home at about 0200." Castle winced, it was about seven o'clock in the morning at the moment. Esposito continued, "Ryan stayed all night. This case is driving us nuts."

"Where's Beckett?"

"Sleeping. We made her go home."

Castle frowned, "What about Ryan?"

The sleep deprived Esposito huffed and turned back to the files, extremely displeased at the entire situation, "He can be pretty stubborn when he wants too."

Castle rubbed his forehead as he sat down, "Let me get this straight, You got _Beckett_ to go home in the middle of a case, but not Ryan?"

"To be fair, Iron Gates helped with Beckett."

Castle nodded, "Oh... That's why. I'm guessing she hasn't even seen Ryan, yet, then."

He glowered at the elevator doors, "Nope. Any moment now she's going to walk in and blow a fuse. I'm counting on it." Castle leaned over, "What if he's avoiding her? He's been in the break room an awful long time."

Esposito's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the room where Ryan had disappeared. Castle grinned gleefully as he spoke in a quiet singsong, one eyebrow raising, "I've got a plan!"

* * *

"This is your plan? Really, bro?"

"Shut up, it'll work."

Esposito huffed as the writer trotted off. A few seconds later Castle was enthusiastically showing a file to the bleary Ryan as he exclaimed quite loudly about how _important_ it was that he look at it _right_ then. Ryan winced visibly at every loud enunciation in his ear.

The impish bestselling author might've been enjoying himself. Just a little bit.

It was then that the elevator dinged, and while the two never thought they'd think it, the savior of the hour appeared. Castle immediately quieted and sauntered over to his usual chair, leaving Ryan still blinking in puzzlement at the sudden change. Castle smiled at Gates as she stalked in, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the writer far too casually lounging in the precinct.

Gates paused beside Ryan who had conspicuously turned his full intention to the murder board. Gates frowned as she raised an unimpressed eyebrow before she spoke, "You better go home, Detective. Sleep it off."

She marched towards her office, heels clicking. Ryan turned, opened his mouth to protest, and was cut off by Gates' perceptive, "Don't even argue, Detective Ryan. I expect to see you bright and early _tomorrow_ morning."

The door to her office slammed and Ryan wilted but slowly left the precinct.

Castle covertly slapped Esposito's outstretched hand, "Told you it would work."


	3. The Operation

**3.**

****"That was definitely a close one, bro."

Castle huffed from Esposito's other side, "You're telling me, man. I've had enough of getting shot at. Two days, three shootouts all with the same person?"

Ryan's breath hitched and a hand went to his stomach, "I don't feel so good."

Esposito frowned at his limping partner beside him, "Of course not, man. You're concussed. EMS will be here soon to check you over."

Beckett loosened her bulletproof vest as she frowned at the tired and queasy NYPD detective, "Maybe you should go sit down. You do look a little... Green."

Ryan nodded and hobbled over to the alley's wall. Castle ruffled his hair and continued talking, "But thats definitely the killer, right Beckett? Andrew Button was the murderer all along?"

Beckett began gesturing expressively, "There was no way it was Gina after the whole elephant incident. The only other person we could've had a chance of placing at the scene of the crime was him."

Javier butted in, "And I talked to the doorman at his apartment complex. He admitted that he may or may not have been given five hundred bucks if he said Button was home."

Castle pointed at him, "So that's why you were late. I was wondering where our backup went!" Esposito frowned, "Hey man, I just saved your butts again-"

They all paused at the unpleasant sound of retching. Castle wrinkled his nose and Javier grimaced. Beckett successfully hid a smirk when Esposito gave a mumbled, 'I better go check on him' and wandered off.

The two only reappeared again when the EMS arrived.

Strangely enough, they diagnosed only an extremely minor concussion. Not even enough panic to warrant waking him up every few minutes should he fall asleep.

Esposito offered to drive Ryan home but the stubborn Irishman wanted to see Button in custody and his confession signed first. Back at the precinct, Button reluctantly admitted to killing Sarah Finch and the case was successfully closed.

Castle grinned and wiggled his eyebrows as he erased the murder board and gave them a parting remark, "All's well that ends well, eh fella's?"

Beckett crossed her arms and gave her partner in all but name a dry look, "A woman was stabbed twenty-seven times, Castle."

Ryan grimaced and hugged his abdomen. Esposito backed away quickly, "Are you gonna puke again, bro? Because we have bathrooms for that."

Ryan shook his head, forehead furrowed and pitiful ice blue eyes peering up at his companions, "No, sorry. I'm just not feeling so good."

Beckett frowned and eyed the young man with sudden concern, "I thought the paramedics cleared you?"

The blue eyed detective frowned, clearly trying to ignore the pain in his stomach, "Yeah, I was cleared. They said I didn't have a noteworthy concussion. I'm- I'm fine. Probably just coming down with a case of the flu or something."

Beckett put her hand on her forehead. Whatever she found had her eyebrows shooting up, "Kevin did you happen to eat anything today? At all?"

"No, I... I didn't have an appetite, why?"

Beckett grabbed Ryan's arm, already moving towards the doors of the precinct, "Castle call 911, right now. Ryan, we've got to get you to the hospital."

Esposito lurched after them, face painted with worry, "What? Why? What's wrong?"

Ryan nodded, eyebrows scrunched with worry, "Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Ryan, you're nauseous, you don't have an appetite, you have severe stomach pains, and you have a really high fever. The paramedics said you weren't concussed, so _what's wrong?_ "

There was a moment of anticipatory silence wherein Castle pressed the down button on the elevator. He waited for the usually quiet but suddenly deafening 'ding' of the doors closing before he voiced the question they all had, "What's wrong, Kate?"

"I think there's something wrong with his appendix."

Castle nearly laughed, "That's it?"

Beckett frowned, hands on her hips as she glared at the writer, "It's nothing to be laughed at, Castle! My appendix burst when I was a kid and I nearly _died_."

The steel doors of the lift slid open and Esposito grabbed the hand of his horrified, grimacing, and vomitus partner, "Come on, bro. Hospital, now."

* * *

A few days later, after the surgery was finished, Ryan woke up to Castle and Beckett bickering in hushed tones over their morning coffee. His fingers hurt, and he looked up smiling sleepily to see Jenny holding his hand in a death grip as she laughed at something stupid Esposito had said.

"Hey."

Several voices exclaimed, "Kevin!"

In the end, Castle was right.

All's well that ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Research: http://www.webmd.com/digestive-disorders/digestive-diseases-appendicitis


	4. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling the 'heat' is not as pleasant as Castle made it out to be.
> 
> Especially when you're Irish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so dislocating thumbs to get out of handcuffs is perhaps possible. Also, I have super pale skin, so I've had really bad sunburns and even once a mild case of heatstroke. The beginning paragraph is written from experience. 
> 
> UGH. Summer.
> 
> Research: http://www.wikihow.com/Escape-from-Handcuffs  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/2535380  
> http://www.webmd.com/a-to-z-guides/heat-stroke-symptoms-and-treatment  
> http://www.webmd.com/skin-problems-and-treatments/guide/sunburn

It was August in New York City and everything was hot. The ninety degree air swam, mirages of shiny puddles formed on the steaming pavement, and everything baked. It wasn't even humid or muggy, which might've provided some sort of relief, in fact it was the sort of day where the sun seemed to be attempting to fry the Earth. One could feel sweat and spit literally drying up as they walked through the busy streets of Manhattan. Minor cases of heatstroke were popping up all over the city when people neglected their body's needs. To those prone to sunburn, one could walk outside and practically feel the heat and sharp ultraviolet light burning layers of skin away and turning you a bright blazing red.

In fact, that was how Detective Kevin Ryan happened to feel. In the cool and blissfully air conditioned space of the precinct, it hadn't been so bad. Outside however, was a whole other matter. He'd reluctantly shed his normal outermost coat when Beckett sent them to a possible lead in an abandoned apartment. The possible lead had heated up very quickly when their suspect Jason Bale fled to the roof. In Esposito's opinion, only guilty men ran.

Also, they were probably guilty men when they tackled a police officer from behind and held a gun to their head. Esposito hadn't been too happy about that. Especially when the unassuming hot dog vendor turned out to be pretty strong. With his partner in jeopardy, Ryan had been forced to stand down and submit to being handcuffed together around an impossibly tall pole on the roof.

Four long hours later, Ryan had given up the improbable possibility of escaping sunburn and lay there almost sleepily on the hot roof, now vest-less, as he wished with all his heart that he hadn't inherited the pale stereotypical Irish skin.

Esposito sat crossly as he eyed the floor. He was hot and thirsty and tired. He'd been overpowered by a hotdog vendor and he was pretty much helpless and useless to the 12th precinct. It was too bad the man had taken all forms of communication or escape with him.

He turned and opened his mouth to ask his partner something when he noticed that Ryan had fallen asleep. Esposito huffed, "Come on, bro. Now is not the time to be sleeping on the job, open those baby blues of yours." He nudged the wiry Irishman warily.

Ryan didn't react.

It took him a few minutes of cajoling and shaking to realize that Ryan had succumbed to heatstroke. Javier swore, how had he not realized the signs? They had to get out of here, _now_. But how?

It took another few minutes of desperate brainstorming before an idea appeared. Esposito squinted against the merciless blinding sunlight. He'd seen this on a TV show once, which definitely weren't reliable or accurate most of the time, but why not? There were no other options. Esposito winced as he prepared himself for what he was about to do. **  
**.  
.  
.  
**Several hours later...  
** .  
.  
.  
Gates eyed the two police officers, "Well what happened to you two? Did you go sunbathing? Beckett was relying on you two for backup and you disappeared for an entire day!"

Ryan shrunk backwards from the fuming Captain, fiddling with his hands in clear shame, "No... We, um. I might've..."

Esposito huffed in his seat by the hospital bed, "We tracked Bale to the abandoned apartment on 23rd. He got the drop on us and... He handcuffed us to a pole on the roof."

Gates crossed her arms, "Are you telling me _that a hot dog vendor_ took down two of New York's finest?"

Ryan raised a hand, "Um, to- to be fair, sir, this hot dog vendor was a serial killer who had um, already killed five people..." The Irishman trailed off at her steely glare.

Esposito decided it was time for an exit. He pulled out his phone, "We should probably talk to Jenny, sir."

The captain eyed the two of them with a new skeptical concern as Esposito struggled to type in the phone number of Ryan's wife. Gates questioned with a heavy sigh, "What aren't you telling me and what did you do to yourselves?"

The Hispanic man adjusted a bandaged hand, clearly annoyed, "You never asked us how we got out... I had to dislocate my thumb, sir. And, uh."

Ryan looked at the covers of the hospital bed, clearly embarrassed as his partner continued on, "And Ryan might have developed a severe case of heatstroke and serious sunburn. Apparently Irishmen don't take well to being in the sun all day in high New York summer."

Gates eyed the lobster red and blistering detective before sighing again, "I better get back to the precinct. You two had better behave."

They nodded meekly as she left. Ryan relaxed as soon as she was gone and Esposito snorted, "Bro, look at it this way. She doesn't hate you as much as she hates Castle."

Ryan slumped against the pillows, "But come on, man. Sunburn? Castle will never let it go."

Javier snorted, "No, he won't. And neither will I, I had to carry you out, bro! With a dislocated thumb! That's six stories, no elevator! Do you _know_ how much you weigh?"

Ryan crossed his arms sulkily, but winced instead as his tender scarlet skin brushed, well, anything, "Yes, I do, and it's not any heavier than you."

Esposito snorted but didn't reply. Mostly because his best friend's worried wife answered the phone, "Yes, hi Jenny. No, I know he didn't come home- no, it wasn't voluntary. Yes, he's fine. He's just a complete numbskull."

" _Hey!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review.


	5. The Open Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark. 
> 
> Suffocating. 
> 
> Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long is too long for a chapter? 
> 
> Also, this is the one that inspired this whole story. 
> 
> Please review!

**5.**

It was a peaceful night at the precinct, Ryan had gone home early to see Jenny. Mostly because he'd stayed late the last couple days and he'd felt that there was only a few more things to close on the case. Nothing that required his help. The kidnapper had been caught and Castle and Beckett only needed to get the suspect to confess. Esposito waved him off and the blue eyed Irishman picked up his coat gratefully and exited the precinct.

All was well.

Until of course, Beckett stalked out of the box, eyes flashing as she slammed down the files. Esposito jumped and Castle just kept a hand to his mouth as he tried to hide a smug grin while he looked the other way.

"So... How'd it go?"

Beckett ran a hand through her curls in frustration, "I really thought we had him, Esposito." The detective frowned and Castle looked back over as he sighed despondently, "I was right and he alibied out. Apparently, he _was_ doing something fishy. Just, y'know, not what we thought."

Beckett fell in her chair with a frustrated huff, "And now we don't have anymore leads." Castle sat down beside her, "His alibi was 'I didn't kidnap and bury them alive because I was smoking pot with the one of the victim's sisters!' I mean, who does that?"

Castle appeared genuinely confused.

Esposito rubbed his forehead, "There still doesn't seem to be any connection between our three vics. Marvin Hayes, happily married to Danielle Hayes with two children. Isaiah Johnson, a man who seemed very well off and content. His record is cleaner than a whistle, and so is his wife Jane's! Jackson Major, sixtyish, retired cop, again happily married, definitely not going to do anything un-law abiding..."

Beckett rubbed her forehead, "I need to sleep on this..."

Castle yawned, "Did Ryan pick up anything new?"

Esposito shook his head, "Sort of, Marvin decided to retire from police work to pursue law. Isaiah used to be in the force, but got shoved off because he gained that prosthetic leg in the line of duty."

Castle frowned, "Okay, so all of our victims used to, at one point in their lives, be a part of the NYPD, but their records don't have anything even remotely suspicious on it... I just don't get it."

Beckett squinted at the clock, "Where is Ryan, anyway?"

"Home. He said he needed to leave early because he promised Jenny he'd be on time. His 'happily' married life and its restrictions. He's crazy if you ask me."

Castle sat up, "Happily married life."

Beckett smirked at her partner, "Don't be getting any ideas now, Castle."

The author ignored her and laughed instead, "It's so easy!"

Esposito snorted, "Doubt it."

Castle stood, "No, no, no, I mean. This killer, all of his victims had a happy home life. He's picking people who's lives are almost perfect! I mean their wives love them, they're well paid, and they're all cops. This murderer probably has a grudge against police, I'm betting something traumatic. Maybe he encountered a dirty cop, he doesn't like them. He doesn't trust them. Then I'll bet his life starts falling apart, that sort of thing, I'll bet maybe he had a wife and she ran off with cop. Well, he gets mad. How can they all have something he doesn't? How come they all get to have good things while he gets dumped? So he starts killing them."

Beckett rolled her eyes, "Interesting theory, Castle. Would be nice if we had more than speculation."

Esposito huffed, "We need to get working. The last note we found from the murderer was twelve hours ago and we were too late to find all three of his victims. The next one should be soon since he's still out there. We need to be ready."

Beckett stood, coffee in hand, "At least we know his MO. I'll call Ryan, see if he can make it back tonight." Castle picked up files, shuffling through them, "It's a special kind of psycho that buries its victims alive."

The brunette shook her head as she threw a look at the murder board with the pictures from the three crime scenes, "And leaves notes with clues for the police to find and figure out before the victim's air runs out, like some kind of morbid scavenger hunt."

The phone rang and Beckett picked it up, "NYPD, Detective Katherine Beckett."

A gravely voice emits from the phone's grainy speakers, " _Are you the lovely brunette investigating my case?_ "

She froze, eyes wide before she began gesturing frantically at Esposito. He somehow understand that she wanted a trace and jumped up quickly. Castle lurched over to listen in on the call breathlessly.

"I don't know, I investigate a lots of cases. It depends on who's calling."

" _You're not going to get me that easy, sweetheart._ "

She shrugged, "Worth a shot. Can you at least tell me why you buried them alive?"

" _No, that's a surprise! Look, I've decided that this whole chase we've got going is fun. So I'm going to make things a little more exciting. In fact, I'll even give you incentive!_ "

"What incentive, what are you talking about?"

" _Hold on... But don't worry, I'll call you back. Patience my dear._ "

The line clicked off and the femme fatale slammed the phone back down on the receiver, "Esposito, did you get anything?"

"No, sorry, Beckett."

She cursed, "Well, we know this psycho is playing with us. He wants us to know how good he is at this and he will tell us where the victim is. We just have to..." The detective huffs as she finishes her sentence, "We just have to be patient."

Castle eyes the murder board, "Lets see if we can get a list of inactive cops that fit his MO, maybe we'll be able to predict where he strikes next."

Esposito nodded, already getting up and shrugging on his jacket, "This would be so much easier if he was stupid and buried them in the same graveyard."

Beckett nodded, "And we should go look over any video footage. He knew what I looked like, which means our killer hung around after the crime scenes to watch us."

An hour later, however, Esposito returns with a huge heavy box, "Beckett, I've got something! Unfortunately this is only the first box of potential victims. How'd the video perusing go?"

Beckett shook her head, "A tall hooded man was at two of the crime scenes and a witness in the crowd remembers seeing someone like that in the crowd at the third. Too bad he was able to disable the cameras for the hour he buried the victim."

"What about the graveyards?"

She sat back, "We made a list of the most well-known ones, but we're not even counting the others."

Castle smiled, "I did get us somewhere, though. Apparently Isaiah was of notable Jewish descent while Jackson and Marvin were followers of the Catholic Church."

Beckett nodded, "And, our killer buried Isaiah in the Jewish Mount Hebron Cemetery. Jackson was buried in the Catholic Holy Sepulchre Cemetery, and Marvin was placed in the Roman Catholic Holy Cross Cemetery."

Esposito leaned back, "So he's got a sense of irony?"

Castle shrugged and pointed at the picture of the second crime scene, "And we know in the case with Jackson that our serial killer is perfectly willing to dig up someone else's grave in order to place his vics and that he doesn't care about whether or not their graves are fresh."

The phone rang.

Esposito got up and Beckett answered, fingers white against the phone, "NYPD, Detective Beckett. Have we had enough patience for you?"

" _B- Beckett?_ "

"Oh, Ryan. I thought you were someone else. Why are you calling so late? We all thought you weren't going to be able to come in till tomorrow."

" _He wanted me to ask you if this was enough excitement for you._ "

She froze, mind flicking through evidence and calculating swiftly before she put a hand to her mouth, "Ryan, you're... You're at home, aren't you?"

Castle froze from across the table, brows furrowing.

" _No... I... I think I'm in a coffin. I- I don't like small spaces. I really don't like them, Beckett._ "

"Okay, Ryan. Stay calm, try not to talk too much, you'll use up your oxygen. In as few words as possible, can you tell us if you remember anything about him? Anything at all?"

" _The- the battery's about to die on the phone._ "

"Don't worry, Kevin. Even if it dies, we'll find you."

" _I... I saw him. I got a good look... Everything's kind of fuzzy, I- I think he gave me ketamine. He's six foot, three inches? He's hard to miss, short brown hair, goatee-_ "

The call cut off as she heard the unfamiliar voice from before shout, " _Shut up!_ "

The dial tone rang loud and ominous in her ear. Beckett whirled, "It was a conference call, Esposito, did you get it?"

Esposito hurried back, "One of the lines I narrowed down to the Brooklyn, the other Queens. That's it." The homicide detective eyed the other two stricken people warily before he asked, "What?"

Castle took a deep breath, "One of the persons on the phone was Ryan."

* * *

 

Esposito sat against the desk arms crossed and eyes narrowed with anger as he glared at the updated murder board. The three, no, four victims had their pictures and similarities pasted to the board.

Castle sighed from beside him, "He fits his MO. Happily married... Cop..."

Beckett stood up from her computer, "Okay, I've narrowed it down. Since our killer places his victims in notable graveyards related to their historical or ethic backgrounds, our next target should be with Irish descent. There is a mostly Irish graveyard in Queens, and one in Brooklyn. Green-Wood Cemetery is placed in Brooklyn, but it's more historical than active. It's got a lot of events. In Cavalry Cemetery is Cavalry Veterans Park. It's got a monument to the Irish 69th regiment, but the Veteran's park is a lot smaller than the whole graveyard so it's not a high chance that he's there."

The unspoken, 'and there's no way to search Cavalry's 3 million graves and find him before his air ran out...' echoed in the empty room.

Esposito stood, clearly eager to find his partner so they could remove his picture from the board, "Let's go."

The phone rang.

Beckett picked it up, "NYPD, Detective Beckett."

" _You won't find him. You won't find me, either. There's a lot of six foot people out in New York City. He's going to die alone, six feet under and I'm going to keep on killing._ "

"Yes, there is a lot of six foot people in New York City. But, I'm willing to bet we can get something more. I'm willing to bet that something happened to your wife, something with a cop."

" _You don't know me._ "

She decides to risk being wrong, "He killed your wife, didn't he?"

There's a moment of silence before he snarls, confirming Beckett's instinct, " _That cop said it was an accident. He said he wouldn't have shot her if she hadn't attacked him. My wife wouldn't do that. My wife wouldn't be a suspect in a narcotic investigation. The others wouldn't believe me and they let him walk away! Well, they won't get away with it. I'll kill him, I'll kill all of them._ "

"We'll see about that."

Beckett slammed down the receiver, "God, that felt satisfying. Come on, Castle. We've got to get to Cavalry Cemetery, Esposito you take Green-Wood!"

* * *

 

Kevin struggled not to panic. It was dark, the phone's last vestiges of power dying as the light dimmed. His breathing sounded ragged and harsh. Overly loud in the cramped space. Ever since he'd ended up locked in a cabinet space when he was younger, he'd been slightly claustrophobic. This was definitely going to have a negative impact on it though.

He needed to stop thinking about how shut in he was. A knee bumped the roof of the coffin and he swallowed nervously as the smell of fresh pine wood and musty damp earth pervaded his senses. Kevin choked, a sort of half sob forcing its way out.

He needed to _calm down._

The worst part was the utter dark and the feeling of being completely alone. He bit his lip, the sharp pain grounding him. It didn't help. He needed to make it for just a little longer. Esposito would come for him. His team would save him.

He just had to hold on, till the wheels fell off.

What if it was now?

Ryan risked taking a deep breath, and he couldn't seem to get it down. He didn't need this right now.

He hates this feeling, clawing its way up and out of his throat, begging to be released as he swallows it down instead. The feeling is sharp and tight, like a band squeezing his lungs tight. He can't breathe and he certainly can't speak. Someone is gasping, harsh choking wheezes as air refuses to go down. He realizes it's him, sucking in air like a man who hasn't tasted oxygen for literal ages. Ryan's nails bite into his palms, the pain grounding him as the eerie lack of background noise fades into an unintelligible roaring. He needs to calm down, but he feels as if the world is spinning and the darkness is closing in. Just be calm, but he can't. He is physically incapable of moving. He always had the sneaking suspicion that one day he'd probably snap and break from the pressure. He still just _can't_.

He _can't can't can't can't can't._

He snaps back into a reality not suddenly but slowly. He makes himself regulate his breathing, in and out. Nails, scratching against the wood.

Ryan feels lightheaded and he closes his eyes, the darkness making no difference with or without his eyes closed. Javi needs to come soon.

Kevin doesn't know how much longer he can last.

* * *

 

"I don't think he's in here. He'd probably want us to search longer so he'll use something bigger like the whole of Cavalry Cemetery or Green-Wood not just the Veteran's park."

Beckett huffed and shone her flashlight over graves, looking for freshly turned earth, "We'll find him in time, Castle. And if we don't, Esposito will."

Castle began babbling, like he did when he was anxious, "There would a certain amount of irony, though. Did you know Cavalry Veteran's park contains a monument to the Fighting 69th, or y'know the Fighting Irish, which was a huge regiment of Irish Volunteers in the Civil War? In fact, I think it's actually still active in today's military."

"Don't care, Castle. We need to find Ryan."

All was quiet before the author replied, voice impossibly soft and uncharacteristically worried, "Yeah, I know."

The two sharp white beams of light cut through the darkness, graves of soldiers from a time long past lining the green strands of grass. The hustle and bustle of New York was ever present, but everything felt muted as they perused the tombs for the dark dampness of freshly turned earth.

"Beckett?"

"What now, Castle?"

"I think... I think I found something."

Beckett eyed the dirt and then hefted the two shovels they'd been carrying, "Are you sure Castle? The grave is pretty old."

Castle frowned at the grave, "I'm sure... Patrick O'Connell wouldn't mind us digging him up to see if he's been replaced."

She began digging, "So far, all of the coffins have been been buried a few feet above the original occupants of the graves, Castle. They haven't been replaced."

Castle followed suit, shovel slicing through the soil with a crunch.

* * *

 

The blonde EMS paramedic nodded her head, "He should be fine, another few minutes and his hypoxia should clear up and we'll take him off the oxygen."

Castle eyed the slight blond detective reassuringly alive and blinking cobalt eyes blearily as sat slumped in the back of the flashing ambulance. The homicide detective adjusted the oxygen mask he held to his mouth and breathed deeply. His hand shook slightly.

Beckett noticed his gaze and gave him a nod. Castle trotted the couple yards over to Ryan, "Hey, you doing okay?"

Ryan nodded and kicked his feet absentmindedly, tightening the shock blanket as he took a deep breath of oxygen, "I didn't even see it coming."

"Kevin, no one could've seen it coming. You shouldn't blame yourself."

A moment passed before Ryan gasped and sat up, pushing messy spikes of hair out of his eyes, "Jenny is going to be so mad at me! I didn't call and I was late again when I said I was going to leave early- Castle you have to call her!"

Castle grinned, "Okay, okay, relax. I'm sure the missus won't blame you for being kidnapped."

Someone shouted from across the crowd of police and paramedics at the historic graveyard. The two men sat up in puzzlement as they watched the crowd surge. Two figures burst from the group, one man in a dark hoodie fleeing an officer. Ryan gaped incredulously as the officer tackled the suspect, "Esposito?!"

Beckett stalked over, heels balanced impossibly on the wet ground. The raven-haired homicide detective stood up triumphantly, yanking the hooded figure up with him, "Guys meet Jefferson Daniels, I spotted him lurking around the scene with the other spectators. He's about six foot three, brown hair, goatee, and get this- he wanted to know whether or not Ryan survived."

The man growled, "So what? Everyone wants to know if the officer lived, we're worried."

Ryan and Beckett started at the deep voice, they spoke at the same time, "That's him."

Esposito grinned viciously, "Thought so. Jefferson Daniels, you're under arrest for the murder of three men as well as the attempted murder of an NYPD police officer. You have the right to remain silent..."

Castle leaned back against the ambulance and the trio watched Esposito gleefully read the killer his rights. They had no doubt the murderer would be paid in full for daring to hurt his partner and one of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Research: http://ny.curbed.com/2015/3/16/9980406/in-modern-day-new-york-reminders-of-irish-roots-abound  
> https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calvary_Cemetery_(Queens,_New_York)  
> https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Cross_Cemetery,_Brooklyn  
> https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Sepulchre_Cemetery_(New_Rochelle,_New_York)  
> https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green-Wood_Cemetery  
> http://www.webmd.com/asthma/guide/hypoxia-hypoxemia#1


	6. The Brawl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not always a damsel in distress, now it's Ryan's turn to save his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun with this! Unfortunately, this is the last chapter. It's been fun, guys! :D
> 
> Also, Happy Easter! I was thinking of publishing this when I got up at 5:30 this morning, but I was far too tired to do the editing that early! XD

**+1**

"Do think this is it?"

"Don't be silly, Castle. This... This isn't it. We'll be fine, Rick."

"You never call me Rick, Kate..." A moment of silence and then, "We're going to die, aren't we."

It wasn't a question.

Esposito shifted his sore arms as he glared at the two of them sitting hopelessly, handcuffed together around a pole, "Knock it off. We'll be fine." He returned to quietly trying to pick the lock of his cuffs with the old paper clip in his pocket. It's not working.

The case had gotten out of hand when the mob had gotten involved. The trio had been taken off the streets and were now imprisoned in a musty basement somewhere in New York. The old sharply dressed businessman who had spoken to the five men guarding them had given a rather generous (or rather sadistic depending on your point of view) five hour delay until their death.

That had been four hours and fifty minutes ago, the literal deadline was creeping up awfully fast.

Esposito was trying to decide whether or not he'd rather die or see Castle and Beckett start making out when they thought they weren't going to make it. Dying sounding less mortifying and much more bearable. Normally he'd be waiting for Ryan if his escape attempts didn't work, but his partner had no idea where they'd been going, much less where they were. Kevin wasn't coming this time. That was probably what sucked the most about this whole situation. He was on his own.

Well, except for Castle and Beckett but they were making goo goo eyes at each other. He rolled his own eyes when Castle's brow furrowed as he said, "Four hours fifty-five minutes..."

Someone knocked on the door and Esposito swallowed nervously. Was this their executioner? He gave a fruitless tug on his handcuffs looped through the solid iron ring on the floor. The ring reacted in the exact same way it had done for the past few hours... It did absolutely nothing.

Esposito mentally counted the men in the room, brows furrowed. Mexican Thug 1 and Thug 2 were guarding the door, faces impassive. Thug 3 and the Thug 4 leaned against the wall behind Castle and Beckett staring hard ahead. The rather pale Thug 5 squinted as Esposito shifted, but he didn't move. That wasn't all however, the homicide detective knew for a fact that an Irishman he'd dubbed Thug 6 guarded the door.

Another knock and a thick unintelligible Irish warble filtered into the room. Thug 1 sighed and reluctantly opened the door with a creak and a snarl, "What now, O'Malley?"

To everyone's complete and utter astonishment, instead of the six foot beefy Irishman thumping into the room, a small hand attached to a wiry angular form viciously punched Thug 1 squarely in the nose. It was like David and Goliath all over again, the heavily tattooed Thug 1 dropped with a gurgling roar, hands clutching his bleeding nose. If their lives hadn't been in danger, Castle probably would've shouted, "Timber!"

Two shots rang out into the room, catching the gobsmacked Thug 2 in the chest.

From then on out it was pure chaos.

The police officers' rescuer barreled into the room, already bruised fist's clenched. It was the slight and lean form of Kevin Ryan in his usual dress shirt, tie, and police vest. His lip was split and a blazing shiner was already forming across an eye as he shouted in the accent he'd used to fool the brutish Thug 1, "Come at me ye bleeding Eegits!"

Esposito did know what in the world that meant but it must've been extremely offensive because Thug 3 and Thug 4 shouted angrily as they charged into the fray.

The whole thing turned into a massive brawl, fists flying and feet kicking. Castle was reminded of the cartoons he used to (and still did) watch on Saturday mornings, the comical dust ball with appendages poking out and blacked out curse bubbles. He wasn't sure if Ryan could overpower them. However, while Thugs 3 and 4 were members of the mob and had probably started several bar fights back in their day, none of them had been trained in self defense or lived through an extremely rough Irish family.

In short, and in reality quite quickly, Ryan came out on top, Thug 3 and Thug 4 unconscious on the cool cement ground with his Glock pointed at the single remaining henchman, the gobsmacked dark haired Thug 5.

"Git out and maybe ah won't put one in yer brain."

Thug 5 makes the wise decision and backs away, "Look, I don't want any trouble." He places the keys on the ground slowly and shuffles to the door, "L- look I'm going."

The moment Thug 5 is out of sight, Ryan lowers his gun and sighs. He coughs and spits out a wad of blood before he speaks, exaggerated accent hidden again, "Well that was certainly something."

Esposito laughs, he should've never doubted his partner. He always came through, "Bro, where'd you learn to fight like that?"

Ryan picks up the keys and swiftly unlocks the sturdy handcuffs, wincing with almost every movement, "Javi, do you know how many bar fights my sister alone has started?"

He moves on to Castle and Beckett. She smiles, "Good work, Detective." Castle eyes the mafia members littering the floor like discarded toys, "Remind me to never even _think_ of going to a bar with your family."

Ryan gives the author a boyish yet unsettlingly bloody grin, "Ye'd be langered after only o' tick with them."

"I have no idea what that means but it sounds awesome."

Beckett jerks her hands free from the undone cuffs and stands, Castle following. Esposito holds up a fist. Ryan complies and fist bumps as his partner smiles with delight, "That was wicked, bro."

Castle and Beckett murmur with agreement and Ryan can't stop the wide elated grin that spreads across his face as he hands the handcuffs back to his best friend, "Thanks Espo."

The limping detective leans on his partner, smiling happily, as Esposito began questioning how he'd possibly managed to find them. Castle and Beckett follow, joining in at times.

Another case closed, another day ended, and the four headed back to the NYPD's 12th precinct, utterly content.


End file.
